


Gotham High

by JotunheimStorm



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Child Abuse, Cutesy, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Multi, One-Sided Relationship Jim Gordon/Barbara Kean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7468383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JotunheimStorm/pseuds/JotunheimStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was something so perfect about the chaos it all most seemed rehearsed, then again this was high school, everything is rehearsed so it doesn’t break the status quo."</p><p>Jim was a football jock, Ed a lovable nerd and Oswald a awkward mommy's boy. Why wouldn't these three get on? Follow the drama, angst and weirdness that is Gotham High. Probably the worst school in the country.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gotham High

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> This will be my first multi-chapter story on this website, I hope you all like it! I thought it would be fun and super cute to have a high school AU with all your favourite Gotham dorks.
> 
> This is completely unbeta'd so please tell me if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes. 
> 
> Enjoy!

One

The halls were dressed in black and white, the walls attempting to be the white shade it was once when it was last given a re-paint. The floor was tiled with black tiles, glistening in the cheap lighting which draws attention to the spots where the janitor missed. The corridor was crowded with people and the chaos seemed perfect, almost well-rehearsed.  _This is high school, everything is rehearsed so it doesn’t break the status quo_ I thought miserably to myself as I trudged through the mess that is my life.

By the green lockers, there was the cliché couple that can’t keep their hands to themselves. Sierra and Chad, the cheer leading captain and the star athlete. Today Sierra’s hands were underneath Chad’s blue polo shirt, feeling his “rock hard abs” but that’s all just rumours. Chad’s dark hands cupped Sierra’s pale face as they French kissed better than any of the French exchange students.

Further down the hall was a band of girls, all linking perfectly tanned arms and giggling like hyenas. Their hair exhibited all of the colours of the rainbow and is styled to “perfection.” Today their skirts are shorter due to the warm air you could see way more than any nerds will be getting this year.

On the opposite side of the hall stood the jocks, with their great hair, perfect teeth and winning smiles. They all wore their various varsity jackets for which ever sport they excel in. When I walked past them I got a firm pat on the back from the football captain, Jed. I turned around to look at him and he flashed me a cheeky grin and I smiled in return. Jed was one of those people everyone was drawn to and no wonder, he was like a model out of a magazine.

“Hey James, you coming to practice later today?” he asked me.

“Yeah, that is if I can survive the day without getting a detention,” I said, half joking, half being completely serious.

“I love this guy!” he said to his friends who all nodded in agreement as he laughed. “See ya later buddy.”

And with that I was walking down the hall again, my book for my first lesson in my arms alongside my textbook. I took a sharp left before reaching the door to my first and least favourite lesson, math. I pushed open the birch coloured door and walked into the class.

* * *

 

Upon entering I go to take my usual seat at the back of the class but I am stopped before I get a chance. The person who does so is an old man with grey hair, in a comb over (a pathetic attempt to pretend he isn’t bald if you ask me). His wrinkled chin is covered by his white goatee and his eyes are hidden behind golden, circular glasses. _This man is not Mrs Jones_ , I think to myself.

“I assume you are Mr Gordon, I am your substitute teacher Mr Smith while your normal teacher is on maternity leave… Due to the inconsistency of your grades, I advise you to sit at the front of the class so you are fully engaged,” the old man told me, which I reply to with a roll of my eyes as I place my stuff on the one of the front desks with a sigh.

The lesson dragged on for what seemed like an eternity. I was flashed an apologetic smile from my friend Barbara as I was sat next to the boy who persist on answering every question. Nygma I think his name was.

Nygma was probably the dorkiest kid in the whole school. His dark hair was pushed out of his face and his brown eyes were hidden behind his black horned rimmed glasses. As every equation becomes tougher the nerd seemed to become more invigorated when he gets it right. Being sat next to him made me look even worse than I already was, not that I needed help with that. 

“Mr Gordon, could you answer the next question please?” the teacher questioned me.

I gulped slightly, looking up to the chalk board for the first time which had something that could only be described as a nightmare for a mathematically challenged guy like myself. It said “There are x sweets in a bag. Six of the sweets are red. The rest of the sweets are blue. Greg takes a sweet from the bag and he eats the sweet, Greg then takes at random another sweet from the bag and eats it. The probability that Greg eats two red sweets is 1/3. Show that x2 – x – 90 =0.” I looked up helplessly at the teacher, already defeated.

“Does anyone know the answer?” Mr Smith asked and out the corner of my eye I saw Nygma’s failing arm in the air and I couldn’t help but snigger. “Anyone else apart from Mr Nygma?” and at this the whole class went silent, eyes shifting, looking for someone, anyone who knew the answer.

Like a gift from the heaven’s the bell’s drone broke the silence and I sprinted out of the room before I could be criticised from my lack of knowledge and anything involving math.

I then made my way to my locker, which I had to punch after putting in my code to open the damn thing. Once it finally opens I threw my math stuff in and grabbed my history exercise book and my various textbooks. I close the metal door to my locker before taking the stairs to my next class.

* * *

 

I walked into the room, happy in the knowledge I wouldn’t have to face math until tomorrow. Though the class room walls are covered by historical posters, other student’s work and postcards but there was something more alluring about plainness of the windows. Everyone wants to sit at a window table. See, history was set up differently to math as the tables were pushed together so four could sit together and discuss ideas together. Whereas math had single desks where you had to suffer alone. Sitting near the window meant you were able to absorb the sunlight and be distracted by the outside world. Outside the sky was blue except for the fluffy white clouds that dominate the skyline.

I go and take my usual window seat next to my best friend Harvey Dent, captain of the debate team. His brown eyes are already skimming the textbook, history was his favourite subject so he always wanted to impress the teacher. Opposite me is one of my friends, Ivory, playing with her black afro hair absentmindedly as we wait for the teacher to turn up. Ivory and her father moved from Nigeria to America a few years ago now and ever since she joined school we'd got on great. Her skin was a dark ebony shade framed by her endless raven afro curls. Her eyes were a hazel shade hidden behind her large black glasses. Harvey had the biggest crush on her but never seemed to work up the courage to ask her out.   

The door is pushed open and the blonde teacher wearing a flowery dress rushed through the door, her expression flustered as she drops her books on the desk before pushing her hair out of her face.

“Sorry for my tardiness, but I had to pick up some supplies for our lesson today as we are starting a new topic,” she said while writing on the whiteboard at the front of the class. “We are now going to be studying Ancient Greece!” she told us excitedly, her face lit up by her smile.

We then listened to Miss Humphreys read from the textbook on what we will be learning in the new topic of Ancient Greece. Mythology, politics and architecture were just a few of the topics we were going to be covering in this section of the syllabus. I didn’t understand why the teacher is so excited by this topic, it sounds just as boring as the rest of the subjects we learnt.

“To start of the theme I have put you all in groups of three so you can make a project on a famous Greek who you find interesting or influential,” she said while fumbling through her sheets to find the one with the groups on it. I can’t help but think _please can I be with Harvey and Ivory._ “Harvey Dent will be with Clarissa Benson and Tomas Winter. Ivory Wilson, Rosita San Martín and William Clarkson will all be together.” _So much for working with friends._ “James Gordon you can work with Edward Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot.”

* * *

 

 _God no, I am not working with that nerd and the weird mommy’s boy._ I can’t help but sigh aloud at the announcement and for that I am given an icy glare from Miss Humphreys before she returns to reading out the list. I don’t listen to a word she is saying, I just slouch in my chair thinking about everyone will laugh at me because I’ll be spending time with two of the strangest, most awkward people in the whole bloody school. _Why would Miss even think that was a good idea? She knows I can’t stand them, is she trying to get back at me because I always hand in my homework late?_

“Now can you go sit with your groups please and one of you can grab some sugar paper from the front of the class so you can brain storm,” she told us and instantly I see Nygma as he ran to the front of the glass grabbing a large purple sheet of paper and a some pens so we could write on it.

I grabbed my stuff reluctantly and walked across the class room to sit with the freaks. I sat down, feeling my popularity plummeting by the second as I slump in my chair, trying not to make eye contact with the two people opposite me. When I finally do look up I look at Oswald for the first time as I had spent most of math looking at Nygma and hating that he was so good at every bleeding subject. Cobblepot was a rather skinny guy with really pale skin and noticeably bright blue eyes. His nose was slightly crooked and pointy, like a beak. His black hair looks like it’s wet (or greasy) and messily plastered on his head, with some spiky ends pointing erratically at the top of his head. _What a weirdo._

A pale hand is stuck in front of me and I look up to see Nygma is the one extending it to me, he smiled widely and I notice how perfect his teeth are. I shook his hand awkwardly. _I’d only ever seen my mom greet people like this._

“I’m Edward Nygma, a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his smile still plastered upon his face.

“James,” I replied.

Oswald had his eyes down, he was reading the textbook and had yet to speak to me or Edward, not that I gave a damn what the blue eyed freak wanted to do. While Oswald was ignoring us, Edward put the large sheet of purple paper in the middle of the table.

“So who do you do you have in mind?” Nygma asked us and yet again Oswald made no attempt to speak to either of us.

“Urm Alexander the Great?” I said with a shrug, not really caring about what we were going to do for this topic. I just wanted the lesson to end so I didn’t have to spend any more times with the freaks.

Edward chuckles a little bit, as if I had said something remotely funny. I raised my eyebrow as if to question his motives and he then went onto tell me that _everyone_ will do Alexander the Great and we need to think more outside the box if we want a good, respectable grade. He then went on to suggest Plato the Metaphysic Philosopher, whatever metaphysic meant. I simply nodded in agreement, not really knowing or caring enough to suggest otherwise.

The sheet was soon filled up with various facts from the top of Edward’s such as Socrates was his teacher and he was in turn, teacher of another great philosopher named Aristotle. When the drone of the bell finally came I picked up my stuff and went to bolt from the class room but I am stopped by a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Edward, a smile still gracing his features.

“We will have to finish this in our own time… Whose house shall we continue this at?” he asked. “I would suggest mine but my father doesn’t take to kindly to strangers in his home… His temper often clouds his better judgement.”

I then told them that my house was being refurbished (total lie) so guests wouldn’t be a good idea at the moment. Our eyes then drifted over to Oswald who looked up at us for the first time.

“My mother loves to entertain guests, we could go to mine if you like?” this is the first he has spoken to the both of us and as he does he attempts a little smile.

We both nodded in agreement and I can’t help but I sigh as I leave the classroom thinking about the shame I will face at the end of the day, going round Oswald’s house.

_Could this day get any worse?_


End file.
